


Artistic Attraction

by c0cunt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, M/M, POV Hunk (Voltron), tattoo artist shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/pseuds/c0cunt
Summary: Lance had a dumb idea (again), and decided to drag Hunk along with him for it.The dumb idea involved Altean Ink, and the unfairly hot tattoo artists that work there.Lance's dumb idea doesn't pan out there, but Hunk wants to go back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> -jazz hands- lookit what i wrote!  
> it's been a WIP since mid-November, so i'm glad to say i'm 95% finished with it! there will be at least two chapters, and maybe a third that will bump the rating up if y'all want it~
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoy reading this ^-^ feedback is always welcome <3

     Hunk was pretty sure that this was a bad idea.  Lance was practically dancing ahead of him, mouth going a mile a minute as Hunk dragged his feet.  More than once, Lance had darted back behind Hunk and forcibly pushed him into moving faster, but.  Hunk really didn’t think it was a good idea.

     “Hunk, c’mon!  It’s gonna look fuckin fantastic!  A big ole Pokeball on an asscheek!  I’m thinking the left one, my left side’s always been my good side after all!”  Lance grinned as he threw the door to the shop they had been walking towards open, nearly crashing it into the building as he flung himself inside.  Hunk followed more subduedly, pinching at the bridge of his nose to try and get rid of the headache already forming.  

     “Lance, a tattoo on your ass is probably a very bad idea,” Hunk tried to reason again, as he took in the whole aesthetics of the shop.  From the outside, it looked like any other shop in the tiny strip mall - crumbling exterior, a generic sign over the place stating “TATTOO”, and darkly tinted windows.  Hunk wasn’t sure  _ what _ he thought the interior of Altean Ink was going to look like, but he was pleasantly surprised by how clean the reception area was.  There were a few scuff marks on the light colored wooden flooring, and the walls appeared to have been splatter painted with neon colors, which was fascinating to Hunk.  His eyes drifted from the visible wall to the poster display cases that covered most of the walls, where tattoo design ideas hung up.  There was a faint buzzing that could be heard from somewhere, as well as quiet voices, and the buzzing sound was putting Hunk’s teeth on edge.  Someone cleared their throat, drawing Hunk’s attention from the display cases, to the man sitting behind the giant receptionist counter tucked off to the left.

     “Welcome to Altean Ink, my name is Keith.  What can I help you with today?”  The man asked almost gruffly, dropping slowly from the high top chair he was perched on.  His black hair was tied back, and he seemed much too... _ Something _ to be a tattoo artist.  His skin was unblemished (weren’t tattoo artists supposed to be covered in their art?), his body slight, and...Short.  Lance let out a snort as the man stood at full height, and it was revealed that he was taller if he had remained in his seat.  Hunk elbowed Lance in the ribs, as Keith’s eyes narrowed and he leaned against the desk.  That sobered Lance up quickly, and he tried to turn the snort into a cough, before he strode over to the desk.

     “Yeah, can you tell me how much a Pokeball, about….” Lance held up his hands, and roughly made a circle with them about the size of a grapefruit, “This big would cost to get?”  He asked, and Hunk sighed loudly before mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ at Keith.  Keith sat back onto his chair, snagging up a piece of scrap paper and a pencil with a contemplative look, before he started sketching.  Hunk let himself slowly travel around the room, looking at the art in the display cases, until he was at Lance’s side.

     “Like this?  Depends on where you want it, and how you want it colored in,” Keith said, turning the scrap towards Lance to inspect.  Hunk also leaned forward to look at the sketch, the simple Pokeball that Lance wanted was shaded and drawn realistically.  Lance hummed as he snatched up the sketch, and then twisted around to hold it against his butt.

     “What do you think, Hunk?  Doesn’t it look perfect like I said it would?”  Lance asked enthusiastically, ignoring the horrified, jaw-dropped look that Keith was now sporting.  Hunk just sighed loudly.

     “Wha-.  Are you stupid?  An ass tattoo is a terrible idea, especially for a twiggy person like you,” Keith said flatly.  Lance swiveled to look at Keith, while still holding the sketch over his left back pocket, glaring at the artist hotly.

     “I’m  _ not _ stupid, and I’m not as much of a twig as you are!  Is that why you don’t have any tattoos, afraid of a little pain on your bony butt?”  Lance taunted.  Keith’s nostrils flared angrily, and Hunk took that as his cue to step in and smack a hand over Lance’s mouth.

     “Okaaaaay Lance, let’s not talk shit about the man who might be tattooing you,” Hunk reasoned, ignoring as Lance licked at his hand in an attempt to get him to move it from over his mouth.  Lance crossed his arms when his muffled complaining at Hunk was completely ignored, like a petulant child.  Keith breathed deeply through his nose as he settled back into his chair, and fixed Lance with a bland look.

     “Usually I’d say an ass tattoo is a good place to go, if it’s your first and you aren’t so into everyone seeing it.  Asses are usually fatty, so there’s a good bit of cushion between your skin and the bones underneath.  But our policy,” Keith leaned back in his chair to tap a framed letter, “states that we can refuse any customer for whichever reason if they’re a walk-in.”  Hunk looked up at the framed letter, which stated in curly cursive:  ‘We here at Altean Ink have the right to refuse service to any customer who may be attempting to make stupid decisions.’

     “That’s bullshit!” Lance squawked from behind Hunk’s hand, half a second before one of the doors behind the desk was pulled open.  A man with a pointy face shuffled out first, both his lower arms wrapped in bandages, as well as all of his lower torso that was visible from where his crop top hit the middle of his ribcage.  Behind him was a blonde haired woman who was chatting animatedly with the man behind her, as she looped her arm through the pointy faced man’s.  Hunk continued to mumble apologies as he started to pull his best friend out of the shop, Lance struggling the entire time.

     “Bullshit or not to you, we aren’t going to stab a Pokeball onto your ass,” Keith said dryly, gaining the attention of the three newcomers.  The woman giggled loudly at that, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth and attempt to stifle more giggles.  The first man snickered openly as well, while the last man frowned.

     “Keith, be nice.”  He said mildly, before turning his attention back to the freshly tattooed man and (Hunk assumed) his girlfriend.  “Keep those bandages on for the next five hours or so, and then  _ gently _ wash it.  No scrub-drying, pat it dry, and then a thin layer of ointment on it for the next week or so.  After that, then we can talk about your next coloring session, Rolo.”  He said meaningfully, as he stepped up on the other side of the desk, where a beat up looking card reader was perched beside one of the two computers.  The man, who Hunk assumed was Rolo, stepped forward as he patted his pockets, and pulled out a rough looking wallet.

     “Of course, my man.  Thanks again for doing this on such short notice, Shir-yo,”  Rolo winked at the man behind the desk, who appeared to ignore it as he punched in a few numbers on the card reader.  Rolo rifled through his wallet before pulling out a card, as his girlfriend? wandered around the shop.  She stopped to look directly at Lance, her head tilted to the side questioningly, before speaking.

     “Rolo, babe, look at this fella.  Wouldn’t he be absolutely  _ perfect _ for the new show you’re thinking about doing?”  She asked with an almost bored tone, before her eyes flickered over to Hunk, immediately zeroing in on the size of his arms.  Rolo looked up from where he was leaning over the card reader, following her gaze over to Hunk, and he whistled appreciatively.

     “Well hell-o there, colossal cutie, what’s your name?”  Rolo asked, forgetting entirely about the fact that he was supposed to be paying.  Keith let out a long suffering sigh, and the other man behind the counter allowed himself to look at the other people in the room.  Hunk felt like a deer caught in headlights, with so many eyes on him, and Lance came (sort of) to his rescue, wiggling out of Hunk’s grasp.

_      “My _ name is Lance, and this is my best buddy, Hunk.  Which, yes, is his actual name, and also is a great description of him as a whole,” Lance said proudly, pulling Hunk forward slightly when he said his name.  Hunk wanted to shrink into the floor, as eyes roamed over him appreciatively, but it was the unknown man behind the counter who whispered out a quiet “suits him”.  Hunk felt his face growing warm, his eyes finding a very interesting spot in the floor, as the woman stalked closer to them with an almost predatory look in her eye.

     “If you two ever feel like you wanna be a star, give us a call.  We can definitely make it work for you,” She said with a wink, slowly tucking a business card into Lance’s pants pocket.  Judging by how Lance was suddenly stuttering, something  _ else _ might’ve happened in there other than just placing a card.  Rolo let out a hearty laugh as his receipt was printed out, and he snatched the paper off the machine before pulling a crumpled pair of twenties out of the wallet and tossing them “Shir-yo’s” way.

     “Nyma, sweetheart, you gotta be a bit more subtle than that.  It’s only by good graces that we haven’t been banned from this lovely shop,” He said, linking his arm with Nyma’s and pulling her out the door swiftly with a peace sign tossed over his shoulder back at them.  The glass door of the shop slammed behind them, and silence reigned for a few seconds.

     “Nylo Film Industries?  I’ve never heard of them before…” Lance muttered, squinting at the card he had fished out of his pocket.  Keith choked on his own breath, and scuttled back into the room Shir-yo had been in, while the other man sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose.  Hunk had never heard of them before either, but…”There’s only a website and a phone number?  That’s kinda hecking weird,” Lance mumbled, as he flipped the card over.  Hunk silently agreed with that, but the other man who worked at Altean Ink spoke up.

     “Trust me, you  _ don’t _ want to get involved with their….Films.”  He said, shaking his head for extra emphasis.  Hunk finally looked up from the floor, and really focused on the man behind the counter.  He was tall and broad, easily twice the size of his coworker, and everything about him suggested he was naturally the leader in everything he did.  His black hair was cropped short, aside from a tuft of white hair that flopped into his face almost cutely.  His white tank top clearly showed off not only his muscles, but the tattoos that covered his right arm, cogs and gears in black and sepia tones that made Hunk think of the inner workings of a machine.

     “My name’s Shiro, what was Keith trying to talk you out of today?”  Shiro’s voice startled Hunk out of his staring, and he blinked rapidly before tearing his eyes away from the man’s arms.  Lance finally looked up from his phone (that he had apparently pulled out while Hunk was...Thinking), and bounced over to the counter, slapping the sketched Pokeball onto it in front of Shiro.

     “I want this.  On my left ass.  The dickhead said that it was a bad idea, but  _ tons _ of people have tattoos on their ass, right?”  Lance pouted, looking back at Hunk as if asking for backup.  But Hunk just shook his head, and crossed his arms at the same time as Lance.  Shiro let out a tiny chuckle, nervously rubbing the back of his neck for a second.

     “I think I might have to agree with Keith on this one,” He started slowly, holding his hands up quickly when Lance turned with an indignant noise.  “You’re right, tons of people have tattoos on their butts.  But, just...You are a bit on the thin side, it’s going to hurt.  Plus, if you want this at the size Keith drew it,” Shiro tapped the paper on the desk.  “It’ll be a literal pain in your ass.  You’ll not want to wear pants or underwear for  _ weeks _ while it heals.”

     “So, what you’re saying is….You  _ won’t _ do it?”  Lance asked slowly.  When Shiro nodded at him, and pointed again at the framed letter on the wall, Lance let out a disgusted noise.  He snatched up the sketch with the Pokeball on it, crumpling up in his frustration.  “Forget it.  I’ll go somewhere else, a shop where they’ll  _ appreciate _ art.”  Lance sneered, his free hand grabbing Hunk’s wrist to drag his best friend out of the shop.  Hunk mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ at Shiro, as he was dragged out of the shop (surprisingly unwillingly now), listening to Lance mutter under his breath about tattoo artists who had the  _ nerve _ to try talking him out of something he  _ wanted. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk does a little research. Lance teases him.  
> Things go really well.

     Hunk was distracted, to say the least, in the following week.  Every time he wasn’t focused on the machines he fixed, his mind drifted back to the tattoo shop, with splatter painted walls and the handsome artist.  Hunk knew that he was trying to justify his desire to go back with wanting to look at those walls again (laughably attempting to - even Lance could tell from the suggestion a few days after leaving the shop that Hunk had only  _ one _ reason for wanting to go back).  The walls had been interesting, and probably would’ve felt textured if he had time to touch them, but….That artist, Shiro, was his main reason for wanting to go back.

     With a sigh, Hunk leaned back in his desk chair, and threaded his hands through his hair.  He needed to think of a reason to go back, even though he felt like cringing just remembering how dramatically Lance had acted before forcing him out of the shop.  Hunk frowned as he stared up at his ceiling, before tugging his laptop closer to the edge of the desk, and pulled up the internet browser he preferred.  It was time to do a little bit of digging.

 

 

     “What’re you looking at?”  Lance’s voice startled Hunk out of his intense research, making him yelp and frantically minimize the internet page he was on.  Which only revealed several more popup sized windows, where samples of Takashi Shirogane’s art had been magnified for Hunk to stare at in awe.  They were such  _ large _ pieces, half and full backs of gorgeous color and sharp black lines.  Lance squinted as Hunk swiftly turned around and slammed his laptop closed, blushing darkly.

     “N-nothing!  Just, ah, looking at things?”  Hunk stuttered, and he dove for the laptop when Lance seemed to attempt to reach for it.  Lance raised an eyebrow at Hunk, as he wandered into Hunk’s room further.  His stride was a little broken, from the pain of a healing ass tattoo, and Hunk wanted to ask how that was going before Lance moved like lightning and stole the incriminating laptop.  Both of them yelped, Lance from pain and Hunk from surprise, and Lance eventually won the struggle for the laptop, lying on his belly on Hunk’s bed.  Lance didn’t even have to ask what Hunk’s password was, easily typing in the same one Hunk had used for the past three years.

     “Takashi Shirogane’s tattoos, eh?  Suspicious,” Lance said as he looked through all the incriminating evidence Hunk had open.  Hunk let out a groan as he sat heavily on his desk chair, looking all the world like a scolded puppy.  “Somebody has a crush~”  Lance sang once he’d flipped through a few tabs.

     “How’s that ass healing up, Lancer?”  Hunk snapped back.  They traded glares before Lance backed down with a sigh, and patted at his left butt cheek sadly.

     “It’s a fucking pain, I can’t even sit on the bowl for more than a minute,” He complained.  Hunk snorted, with no sympathy for his best friend.

     “Maybe they were right at Altean Ink, hm?”  Hunk asked, nudging Lance’s foot with his own.  Lance let out a grumbling noise like an annoyed cat, before slamming Hunk’s laptop shut.

     “Are you gonna get a tattoo, or are you gonna go and ogle that Shiro guy?”  Lance asked as he stretched languidly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Hunk as he spluttered his protests.

  
  
  


     He was nervous when he arrived outside of Altean Ink the following day, a few scraps of paper clutched in his hands.  Hunk had checked five times online, to make sure that the shop was even open, and he was hoping that Shiro would be there today.  He could see Keith at the reception desk, perched up on a stool with a landline phone tucked up against his ear, alternating between typing on the computer and scribbling on a notepad as he listened and spoke to the caller, but there was no sign of Shiro in the shop.  Of course, he could easily be behind one of the doors behind the desk, like he had been when Hunk had first visited...Hunk was about to talk himself out of stepping inside, when Keith glanced up and noticed him standing outside the door.  He smiled and waved slightly at the larger man, before refocusing on his phone call, and Hunk couldn’t just walk away now.  With a deep breath, Hunk steeled himself before entering the shop, just able to catch the tail end of Keith’s phone call.

     “...-day, the 23rd, at 3pm.  We’ll see you then, Shay.”  Keith said, obviously attempting to be cheerful (it sounded painfully forced to Hunk, who winced sympathetically), before he hung up the phone swiftly, and leaned his head into his hands for a few seconds.  Hunk’s eyes trailed to the walls, trying to figure out just how  _ many _ colors of paint they would’ve used to splatter all four walls somewhat evenly.  He ended up focusing on some of the display posters, and casually flipped through the ones that caught his attention.  Hunk had almost completely forgotten there was someone else in the room, the quiet buzzing of a tattooing machine almost soothing background noise, until Keith rose from his perch, both of them cringing as the chair screeched painfully against the floor.

     “Hey, uh, you came in with the guy who wanted an assball, yeah?  Did he just go somewhere else and get it done?”  Keith asked, sounding genuinely curious.  Hunk let out a snort of a laugh before nodding, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

     “He says it’s a bitch and a half with the healing, and apparently the person he went to didn’t even do the lines straight,” Hunk said with a shrug.  Keith pursed his lips and shook his head in a disappointed manner, before shrugging and taking notice of the papers in Hunk’s hands.  Like a switch being flipped, Keith went from annoyed and dismissive to suddenly personable.

     “Looking to get a quote on a tattoo?”  He asked, gesturing for Hunk to come closer.  Shuffling the papers in his hands, Hunk made his way to the front desk, vaguely noting that the buzzing from the machine had stopped, and shyly offered the papers.

      “I, uh, had some ideas, but…”  Hunk trailed off as one of the doors behind the front desk opened, and Keith bent over the designs that Hunk had picked out.  Takashi Shirogane led the way out of the room, holding the door for the white haired woman behind him.  A large gauze pad was tapped in place over her shoulder, and other designs trailed down her arms in delicate patterns.  Hunk was pretty surprised to see that she had tattoos underneath her eyes, one pale pink triangle under each, but his attention slid quickly to Shiro, who looked surprised but happy as he stared at Hunk.

     “On the house again, I assume?  I’ll get you those new machines you were talking about, Shiro,”  The woman promised, her tone light and airy as she walked out of the shop, neither of the artists making a move to go after her.  Hunk raised an eyebrow curiously at that, but brushed it off as Keith looked up at him from the papers.

     “Did you draw these?  They’re really good,” Keith praised, shuffling between the pages.  Shiro raised an eyebrow as he came to look over Keith’s shoulder.

     “Applying to be an artist here?”  Shiro asked, (hopefully?) glancing between Hunk and his drawings.

     “I, uh, no.  I just uh...Was thinking about a tattoo…”  Hunk stuttered, face red from the unexpected praise.

     "I can do any of these for you, free of charge,” Shiro blurted out, surprising both Hunk and Keith.  Keith narrowed his eyes at Shiro as he slowly put down Hunk’s papers, and shot Hunk an apologetic look as he started to drag Shiro back into the room he had emerged from.

     “Pardon us, we’ll be just a moment,” Keith promised, as Shiro fruitlessly struggled against Keith’s iron grip.  The door behind them slammed, and Hunk could hear indistinct whispers that set his nerves on edge.  Keith’s voice was louder - Hunk figured he knew what Keith wanted to talk to Shiro about, but hearing the words “money” and “shop” made it easier to know exactly what was going on.  There was silence for almost a full minute, before the door flew open and Shiro strode out, looking nervous as Keith hissed at him to come back.

     “Hey, so, uh...I...You...Cute?”  Shiro stumbled on his words, and looked like he wanted to slap himself for not being coherent.  Hunk just blinked at him for a second, as Shiro composed himself and started again.

     “What I mean is...You’re cute, and...Would you want to go on...A date?  If you’re interested?”  Shiro asked, fidgeting nervously.  Hunk blinked again, slowly, and let out a surprised noise.

     “I...Never would’ve thought a guy like you would be into a guy like me…”  Hunk said quietly as he ducked his head.  Hunk let out an actual laugh then, as he shook his head and gathered up his papers.  Shiro deflated quickly, and Keith moved out of the back room with a murderous look on his face, before Hunk realized just how that probably looked and sounded, holding his hands up in surrender.

     “What I mean is!  I didn’t come here ‘cause I wanted a tattoo,” Hunk said quickly, as he waved his papers.  “I came here because...I wanted an excuse to talk to you, Shiro.  So like...Yah, definitely, I’ll go on a date with you, if you’re still into it,” Hunk mumbled, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor.  Shiro couldn’t help grinning as he scribbled down his personal phone number onto the back of one of the parlor’s business cards.

     “Call me?  I have really flexible hours, so…”  Shiro shrugged as Hunk eagerly took the card, grinning just as wide as Shiro was.

     “Yeah, definitely,” Hunk said breathlessly, before turning and stumbling out of the shop with his prize in his hand.  He was barely out of view of the shop before he sent Shiro a text.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, so this is all i have written at this moment! if y'all want the nsfw stuff i had planned.... please lemme know, and i'll try my best to write it. if i can't write more than what i have, i'll edit the end notes here and add it in - it takes place about 4-5 months after the ending point of this fic~


End file.
